


In Chains

by Neverjustablipintime



Series: In Chains [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Brothers, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Rescue, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-27
Updated: 2015-09-27
Packaged: 2018-04-23 14:43:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4880755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neverjustablipintime/pseuds/Neverjustablipintime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Somewhere in Serbia, soldiers run a man to ground and haul him into their base.  They have a few questions.  How is one to escape?</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Chains

He was running as fast as he could, dodging trees and avoiding roots. The sound of several people crashing through the underbrush followed closely behind him but he did not turn to see how close they were. He knew that he had to avoid the soldiers for as long as possible, the longer he was free the more chance he knew he had. Gunfire to his right made him swerve, ducking down and veering to the left he ran for about fifty more yards before a tree root unexpectedly grabbed his foot making him stumble. He tried to regain his feet but before he could rise completely he noticed soldiers closing in from further along the path, guns drawn.

Orders were shouted, soldiers surrounded him quickly, guns drawn. He stayed on his knees, hands up in surrender as he attempted to catch his breath. Two of the armed men moved in while the others provided cover and quickly subdued him. His arms were pulled forcefully behind him and he was bound tightly before roughly being dragged to his feet. They continued to shout at him, manhandling him toward the personnel transport that had pulled up while he was being subdued.

He was shoved into the back of the vehicle and held face down on the floor, a gun pressed to his head a constant threat. Men piled in around him and once the soldiers were all in, the driver took off. It was a ten minute drive to the compound, the men talking to each other over him, he knew that there was no chance yet for escape. He braced himself for what he knew was going to happen. He could hear the men making disparaging comments about him and how someone so weak had gotten so close to their base with out detection. He knew that they'd want information and that was something that he would be unable to give them. He would have to hold out until he could escape.

The vehicle slowed down and the men began to jump out. He was jerked off the floor and shoved toward a concrete building. There were no windows, just solid walls and barbed wire. He stumbled when one of the guards jabbed him in the back with the butt of a rifle. He took the time to count the number of soldiers standing guard and took note of their positions around the compound knowing he would need that information later.

He was shoved through the entryway and was lead down several dim corridors before being thrown head first into a room the size of a closet. He smashed into the wall with his shoulder, before the door was bolted behind him and he was left in the dark, hands bound tightly behind his back shoulder aching from it's collision with the cement. Turning slightly to lean against the wall with his back and arms he slouched down and slowly lowered himself down to a sitting position facing the door. He could see the shadow of a guard hovering outside his cell and heard the occasional footfall as someone walked past. Knowing that it would be a while before they came for him, he shut his eyes and retreated into himself.

Although he usually didn't sleep much, the last 2 years had been rather more stressful than usual for him and recent events had taxed him even more. He knew that he had to rest as much as possible, so with that in mind he made himself as comfortable as possible in the cramped quarters. Closing his eyes he focused on sorting the information he had gathered already and tried to piece it together to fill in the holes in the intelligence he'd collected so far. Knowing that he was only missing small pieces of the puzzle was driving the usually precise man's mind mad. Shifting slightly to reduce some of the pressure on his bound wrists he eventually drifted into a light sleep.

********

By his calculations he had been left in the dark room for over 24 hours before someone had come to get him. He had woken up a few hours after falling asleep when a group of men had walked past while talking loudly. He had been unable to drift back to sleep and had subsequently studied every corner of his dingy room, or at least as much as possible in the dim light provided under the door, and cataloged the voices of the men who passed by. If his reckoning was correct there were seven men who kept guard inside as well as at least ten that had been stationed at various points outside that he had observed upon his arrival.

He knew when they were coming for him because he could hear the footsteps stop outside his door. There were four men, three who had just arrived, one of whom ordered his door be opened by the guard keeping watch. The bolt securing the door was wrenched open and the door pulled abruptly back. He blinked at the silhouetted forms standing in the door way, they made some comment about the smell and how dirty he was before grabbing him roughly by the arm and dragging him from the room.

Barely managing to get his feet under him, he was dragged down the hall before being thrown down a short staircase into a larger room. Unable to catch himself he rolled to absorb the impact. The room was complete with an overhead light, a chair and table. The men followed him down the stairs and before he could regain his footing he was grabbed and dragged off the floor and onto his knees. His bonds were cut but before he could even think to take advantage of his new found freedom he was being forced into metal cuffs that attached one to each wall. His arms stretched out to the sides, chains connecting him to either wall, the tension forced him to stay crouched, he could neither stand fully nor kneel completely, but was stuck in-between in the center of the room facing the empty chair.

Once he was secured, one of the men removed his shoes and the thread bare socks from his feet. Knowing that that was to make him feel that much more helpless and provide a deterrent against his escape he had no choice but to submit. While the articles were removed and discarded one of the other guards had left to get a bucket, the icy water contained within was summarily thrown against him. He heard them laughing and complaining that it did nothing for the smell. The youngest guard stood off to the side, gun at ease knowing that the prisoner wasn't able to escape as the other guards left the room.

With nothing to do but hang in the chains, the man observed his surroundings. He was chained between two walls of the room. His arms stretched painfully to the sides, the cuffs cutting in to his thin wrists and without the benefit of slack there was no give for him to stand. He was limited to crouching but even that put a strain on his shoulders. The chair he had seen earlier was about 3 meters in front of him, the perfect position for someone to observe his questioning later. The table was located about a 2 meters behind him, he had glimpsed several implements that he had no doubt would be used in his questioning. The young guard stood to his left and slightly in front of him, an ideal position in case he needed to be alerted by someone coming down the stairs which he had been pushed down upon his arrival in this room.

He quickly assessed the young guard, and knew that he was the youngest child, father had been killed and so had an older brother, he alone was left to help support his ailing mother. He was scared to be assigned to this particular facility and the lengths that the Serbian soldiers would go to during their interrogations and treatment of prisoners, however he was more scared of what would happen to his mother if he defected and therefore kept his head down and tried to blend into the background. He had recently broken up with his girlfriend due to stress and lack of contact. Boring.

Retreating into his mind he tried to figure out what it was that he was missing. He knew it was something minor and that was what was so annoying. If he had been able to figure out the last pieces he could have avoided coming to investigate this particular locale but there was some vital piece of the puzzle that was just out of reach, one piece that he knew would solve the last mystery and allow him to go home to London having completely dismantled Moriarty's web of crime.

There was shouting and more water was thrown on him. He jerked at the unexpected cold, shaking his head to try and get the water out of his eyes was no use, his lank dirty hair just dripped more icy water into his face. He realized then that he was in for a long, uncomfortable wait.

The guard changed every couple of hours and it was maddening that every time he tried to retreat into himself he was yelled at, jabbed, splashed, or punched by whichever guard was on duty at the time. He knew that they thought he was falling asleep and were trying to keep him awake. It was a basic form of torture however although he often didn't sleep for long periods of time he knew it could prove effective even against him if applied correctly.

The guards kept it up interspersed with questions about what he was doing there, how he found out about the hidden base, all the usual boring questions that interrogators ask to get a dialogue going.

********

He had lost track of how long he had been shackled in the room, the guards had taken to varying their shifts no doubt to encourage this loss of time, however he had been there long enough to realize he was getting close to needing food and water, and not just the small amount that was splashed into his face in a seemingly increasing interval in an effort to bring him out of his mind palace, not that the guards knew that's where he was attempting to spend his time. He had stopped trying to keep his head raised and simply let it hang, The tension in his shoulders had become so constant that he was almost able to ignore the fiery sensation of muscles tensed beyond what they should.

He heard men approaching and knowing that this time they probably weren't going to be satisfied with waking him and a few minor strikes he steeled himself for the questioning that was to come.

Three men entered the small room. One made his way over to the solitary chair across the room and sat while the other two approached him. The smaller of the two men approached him and just stood there looking down upon him while the other more muscular man made his way to the table that was placed to his back.

"What is your name?"

Silence greeted the query.

"Now, now. Let's not be rude. I just want to talk, and know who I am speaking with." Kneeling down the man attempted to look his prisoner in the eye, " So I'll ask again. Please, what is your name?"

The only response was a small huff of amusement.

The man stood and took a few steps back.

There was a whistling sound, a thwack and a sharply in drawn breath coinciding with tensed shoulders as a leather strap connected with bare flesh.

Again.

And again.

And again.

Ten lashes were delivered, with the strap before the smaller man gestured for a halt. Kneeling down the shorter man tried to look his prisoner in the eye, but he kept his head down. Sighing he began speaking, "What is your name?"

Heavy breathing was the only response.

Sighing the man continued, "Very well. I'll just call you Goran, very apt no?" He patted the back of the mans head before standing again, this time not moving away.

Gritting his teeth at the pedestrian humor of his interrogator he mentally rolled his eyes, 'Mountain Man. Can he really not come up with anything more original? Still I suppose it could be something equally boring and supposedly demeaning like Dog or Swine. But no, he probably thinks he's being "clever".'

"Now, Goran, what were you doing walking around our forest? What were you looking for? I want to know these things, I want to know what you are doing here and who you are reporting to. I want to know everything you know and we will be here today until you tell me all that I require. Once you have we can get you some food and water, would you like that? I know our hospitality hasn't been very good, but after all you did break into our base... that wasn't very polite either."

Silence.

"We can do this the easy way Goran, but somehow I don't think that you are going to be cooperative, will you?"

There was no response.

Sighing the man stood and grabbed a fistful of hair, yanking the bound man's head back he spoke softly but menacingly, "You will tell me what I want to know, the question is only before or after you've been broken." Stepping back he nodded his permission to the guard standing opposite.

A hard punch landed on his side and the young man inhaled sharply, pain radiating from his now bruised rib. The man waited between hits, giving time for the pain to be fully felt and absorbed. He varied his targets, covering everywhere that was exposed from shoulder to kidneys, ribs to spleen. By the time he was finished the prisoner was breathing rapidly, short shallow breaths that came too quickly and blood trickled from the corner of his mouth.

His head was pulled sharply back by his hair and the questioner began again. "What were you looking for?"

His only response were the fast breaths.

The man growled and smacked the side of the prisoners head, standing up he silently addressed the man who had retreated to the table, nodding he backed away and looked to the man silently sitting in the chair, feet up, almost forgotten. Meeting the hooded man's eyes he was waved away and silently directed to leave. Knowing that it would take a while to break the stubbornly silent prisoner he decided to make his way up the stairs to get himself a warm drink.

The burly man grabbed a knife from the array of tools on the table and approached the bound man from behind. Quickly and efficiently he cut away the tattered shirt, throwing the rags in the corner he went back to the table and replaced the knife back on the table. While there he wrapped a thin piece of leather around his knuckles. He resumed his efforts to loosen the prisoners tongue with another beating.

Several minutes and a hard beating later, the prisoner was unable to hold onto his silence and couldn't stop the grunts of pain that were forced from his lips. The man unwound his fists and dropped the leather strips on the table only to pick up a metal pipe. Grinning menacingly he stood in front of the prisoner and asked, "Just tell us why and you can sleep. Remember sleep?"

No answer just heavy gasping breaths.

Shrugging the man with the pipe pulled back, preparing to strike when the prisoner finally whispers something after hours and days of either silence or pain filled grunts.

"What?" He asks, roughly pulling the prisoners head back by his stringy hair.

More breathy whispers.

The man sitting and observing takes and interest and perks up asking the interrogator, "Well? What did he say?"

The interrogator releases the prisoner and steps back, looking down on the bound man he relates back to his superior, "He said that I used to work in the navy, where I had an unhappy love affair."

More whispered muttering from the prisoner had the interrogator asking "What?" again. He then relayed this next revelation to the man on the chair. "...that the electricity isn't working in my bathroom; and that my wife is sleeping with our next door neighbor! And...?" The bound man goes further and unbelieving the man hears and relates, "The coffin maker!" Getting impatient and angrier by the minute he pulls the prisoners hair back again demanding more and furious as to how this prisoner can possibly know all this, he demands, "And? AND?" Turning to the man still sitting on the chair observing he angrily states, "If I go home now, I'll catch them at it! I knew there was something going on!" At a nod from the man in the chair he threw the pipe back on the table and stormed out of the room leaving the prisoner hanging suspended in chains, breathing heavily through the pain coursing through his battered body.

"So, my friend. Now it's just you and me." The chair scraped slightly along the cement floor and the prisoner could tell the remaining man was approaching him from the front. There was a pause and a sigh, "You have no idea the trouble it took to find you." Cataloging the damage done to the man in front of him he grabbed a handful of hair and pulled the beaten mans head up, leaning in to murmur in his ear he switched to English, "Now listen to me. There's an underground terrorist network active in London and a massive attack is imminent. Sorry, but the holiday is over, brother dear." Releasing the man's head and straightening up he continues as if he is not in the middle of a run down terrorist interrogation cell, "Back to Baker Street, Sherlock Homes."

Despite the pain he is in, the bound man, the one and only Sherlock Homes, grins... The Game is on!


End file.
